


Kiss With a Fist

by Chellendora



Category: Dragon Age, Dragon Age II
Genre: F/M, Reader-Insert, Romance, you fiction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-09-24
Updated: 2014-06-01
Packaged: 2017-12-31 12:42:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 20
Words: 14,353
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1031822
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chellendora/pseuds/Chellendora
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“A kick in the teeth is good for some, but a kiss with a fist is better than none.”</p><p>It was a very different change of pace than you had imagined; and what you had imagined had already been beyond anything you knew. But it was your niche, your place. In this city of Kirkwall, capital of oppression and greed, you found not a home exactly—but a duty. There were so many here that needed help. You, Abigail Amell Hawke, would do what was necessary to help them.</p><p>Anders/reader/Fenris</p><p>  <i>All lyrics are the property of Florence Welch and respective parties.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A fist is better than none.

It was a very different change of pace than you had imagined; and what you had imagined had already been beyond anything you knew. But it was your niche, your place. In this city of Kirkwall, capital of oppression and greed, you found not a home exactly—but a duty. There were so many here that needed help. You, Abigail Amell Hawke, would do what was necessary to help them.

“…Kitten, are you listening to me anymore?”

You snapped out of your thoughts, lifting your eyes from your pint to regard Varric across the table from you. You smiled apologetically. “I’m sorry, Varric…Just too tired to keep focus, I guess.”

It was well past dark after a day of running here and there, to and fro, doing this, that, and the other thing to raise money for the Deep Roads expedition. It was exhausting work, and your family’s situation in Lowtown just gave that deadening kick while you were down.

Varric took a moment to study your disposition. Lackluster eyes that had once been such a soft brown, barely maintained hair the color of the flames you could conjure, and drooping posture. You weren’t the same if you weren’t smiling, filled with a subtle energy and wit.

Finally he smiled fondly and shook his head. “You go on home and get some rest. I’ll meet you tomorrow and we can go find the Warden then. How’s that?”

“That’s the best idea you’ve had all day!” Sleep slurred your words as you pushed your chair back from the table and stood.

As you walked carefully form the Hanged Man, you patted Varric’s shoulder and then lifted your hand to Isabela. She was able to spare a moment between shots with a sailor to wave good night.

Neither offered to walk you home, it was unnecessary. You lived just around the corner and even without your staff with you no one stood a chance against your boots. You conceded that it was unwise to be without your staff, but it lifted suspicion off you to be without it and you could more genuinely enjoy Varric and Isabela’s company. Sometimes Fenris, too.

You turned a corner and reasoned almost instantaneously that a collision was unavoidable. The man gripped your shoulders as if to steady you, but his grip was uncomfortably tight.

“’Ow’s t’is? W’at’s a lass like you doin’ out all alone?” he asked. His breath smelled of piss beer and onions, and you could see that several teeth were partially blackened.

You turned your head slightly as you attempted to move away from him. “My apologies, serah…I wasn’t paying attention. I really must get home.”

“’Ome?” The man laughed with cruel humor. “You ain’t goin’ ‘ome, lass.”

He jerked you toward him and crushed his arms around you in a sick imitation of an embrace. As he began to drag you away you screamed at the top of your lungs. You kicked at him, but steel toes were useless unless they hit their target.

You twisted and pushed against your assailant until you could finally execute a well-placed kick to his shin. He cried out and his grip loosened just enough for you to be able to get away. 

You had just stepped away when blood sprayed from his chest, accompanied by a clawed gauntlet clenching a crushed heart.

You tripped on some loose gravel on the street and fell, scraping your palms on the concrete when you attempted to break your fall.

The assaulter fell forward onto the ground, dead. There stood Fenris, heart in hand and blood splattered on his face. He smashed the heart onto the ground and stepped toward you.

“Hawke, are you all right?” he asked calmly, his eyes watching yours intently.

You pushed yourself to your feet and brushed off your palms. “Thank you, Fenris,” you said demurely, your eyes cutting to the right. You were quite embarrassed that he had had to save you.

Fenris struggled with himself for a moment. To scold you for not having your staff would be inviting you to reproach his stance against mages. You may have been quite diplomatic, but persistence was annoying. Finally he simply asked, “Would you like for me to accompany you home?”

You looked past him to the dead man. You recognized him from the tavern. He had been with at least three other men.

“I would appreciate it,” you replied with an inclination of your head.

Fenris nodded and turned, walking with you through the streets of Lowtown.

After a few moments of silence you asked, “Were you on your way to the Hanged Man?”

“Yes,” he replied. You could not resist listening to him speak. His voice was like velvet rubbing against your skin. “Isabela challenged me to a game.”

“Be careful.” You cracked a bit of a smile. “Isabela is quite crafty.”

The look in Fenris’s eyes disappeared as quickly as the half smirk that flashed across his lips. “I am well aware.” He enunciated each word carefully, changing the connotation of the statement.

You felt a stirring of disappointment that you very quickly ignored. You turned to face Fenris when you reached the door to Gamlen’s house.

“Thank you again,” you said with more sincerity this time. You smiled.

A bit of a smile twitched on his lips and he inclined his head respectfully. “Hawke.” He then turned and headed away down the stairs, not looking back.

You watched after him for only a moment before entering the key into the door and heading inside for the night.

* * *


	2. Sweeter than Heaven, and hotter than Hell.

You adjusted your staff on your back as you led the way to Lirene’s Fereldan Imports in Lowtown; Isabela, Varric and Fenris at your heels. The incident from the night had been left unprovoked by either you or Fenris, and you were fine to leave it that way. In fact, you didn’t think one thing about it after you had entered the small shop.

It’s worth admitting that you were more invested than this venture than you had been in any other thus far. Meeting a fellow Fereldan who was also a Warden was too good to pass up. When you entered the makeshift clinic in Darktown you knew immediately that he not only was a renegade Warden, but an apostate as well.

You catch the recognition in his eyes as you stop in front of him in all your rogue-mage glory. “I’m looking for a Fereldan Warden.”

He had an inclination to trust you right off simply because you were a mage, but you knew he had left the Order and he didn’t think you were a Free Marcher. “Why would that be?” he asked carefully.

You smiled a bit wearily, as if you thought his caution unnecessary but endearing. “I’m looking to back an expedition to the Deep Roads. Rumor has it you have maps of the entrances in the Free Marches.” You consciously made your smile appear friendlier.

A familiar shiver shot down his spine at the mention of the Deep Roads. “My name is Anders, and yes…I am a Warden.” He went silent, the bridge of his nose crinkling as he assessed how much was safe to tell you, and what kind of person you seemed to be. Your red hair was bound practically in a ball on the back of your head, chopsticks stuck through it to hold it there. You wore light, but sensible, armor: A rich green half robe over black trousers and lithe leather boots. You presented a personable disposition. 

“You are an apostate?” he asked. 

Recognizing that he sought clarification, you nodded your head. “From Lothering.”

“Lothering?” he asked with slight surprise. “Then you fled the Blight.” It was not a question, and for a moment his whole demeanor drooped. “Perhaps we can do each other a favor. If you help me, I will give you the maps.”

“Sounds fair…and typical,” you muttered. Clearing your throat, you splayed your hands out in question. “What is it you need me to do?”

Anders looked this way and that out of an irrational fear. It was not probable that a Templar would pop out of thin air to catch him saying what he was about to say. He would have noticed if a Templar tried to sneak into his clinic. He stepped closer to you and lowered his voice anyway.

“I came here to help a friend of mine, a mage in the Circle here.” He frowned, the plight of the mages surely something that weighed heavily on his mind. “He sent me a letter telling me that they planned to make him tranquil. Help me rescue him, and the maps are yours.”

You didn’t think anything about it before you accepted. You sought freedom for all mages, but you did not wish to eradicate the valuable education and training the Circle offered. You ignored the deliberate grunt and disapproving glare in Fenris’s expressive, forest green eyes.

From that point on you felt very fond of the healer. Perhaps it was the Fereldan connection, or the camaraderie you felt as fellow apostates, but you knew you wanted to be closer to this Anders. You sensed something about him that was unsettling, but you could feel an aura of sadness too. This gentle, internally fierce man was potentially a very powerful future ally. 

The fact that he was unbearably cute and radiated a sweet nature was just the icing and cherry on top.

* * *


	3. In the shadow of your heart.

You had dreaded this conversation since the incident in the Chantry. Whatever had happened to Anders was something you had never seen before, but you didn’t sense a demon per se. Regardless, you had an uneasy feeling in the pit of your stomach as you strolled into the Darktown clinic unaccompanied.

Anders looked up from his corner desk (if you could really call the shabby furniture such) as you approached. A bit of fear flashed across his eyes along with silent acceptance. You could not help but feel a pang of sympathy, and it caused your dread to subside slightly.

“Anders—”

“You want to discuss what happened in the Chantry,” Anders supplied slowly, a sad smile twitching the corner of his lips. “I knew that you would.”

“What _was_ that?” you asked. You hoped that your question would not offend him or seem like an accusation in any way. You were simply curious; worried about your new friend too, if you were being completely honest with yourself.

Anders stood slowly from his desk, suddenly appearing to feel beyond his young years. He moved so that he was standing in front of you and could lean against the edge of his desk while he spoke.

He told you the story of Justice in a few concise sentences. This was obviously a conversation he had known he would have eventually and, as a troubled mind will do, rehearsed what he would say many times before they had to be said. You listened intently, gripping the fingers of your left hand in your right. When he had finished he sighed. He sounded exhausted; the conversation, however brief, had drained him.

Silence prevailed for a few moments while you processed the information. You tried to imagine what it would be like to be possessed by a spirit. You imagined that you would live in fear that it would one day transmute into a demon, as you feared Anders’s Justice was doing. “That explains the sadness I see in your eyes,” you said gently as you looked up at him.

Anders’s eyes widened slightly in surprise. “Sadness?”

You nodded, suddenly feeling a bit out of your element. “You know…” You conjured a sly smirk to your lips. “You have that ‘tortured by my past’ look going on. It’s sexy.” You always resorted to your wit when you became uncomfortable, something Bethany had pointed out to you years earlier. You suppressed the pang of pain at her memory.

Anders could not help but smile at you, his spirits lifted somewhat. “I was not expecting such…acceptance. What a different woman you are.”

“Believe me,” you said with a short laugh. “I _know_.”

\---

After that debacle you felt you needed—and quite deserved—a pint, so you made your way to the Hanged Man. The smell of cheap liquor and vomit greeted you as you turned the corner to the pub and then hit you with the force of a thunderclap when you opened the door. You hadn’t the time to survey your surroundings before you heard your name called with excitement.

Isabela had commandeered a table in the corner and was waving to you with a hand filled with cards. Varric and Fenris sat around the table, each looking slightly perturbed. You smirked to yourself as you made your way across the tavern to join them. Isabela must have been winning.

“What’s the matter, Kitten? You look as though you’d seen a ghost,” Varric said as you sat between him and Fenris. The elf merely glanced at you, inclining his head in a respectful greeting.

“I guess you could say that,” you mumbled with half a laugh. “I’ve just come from speaking with Anders.”

Isabela hummed appreciatively, resting her chin in her hand. “That is one sexy apostate…too bad he has his staff shoved up his ass already.”

“Isabela!” you scolded, but you were only playing. She knew so by your smile. 

“That mage is dangerous,” Fenris said to you. His statement had an instant dampening effect on the mood of the group. “You would do well to not get involved.”

You sighed, knowing that no matter what you said Fenris would not agree with you; to agree with a mage was against his principle. “I understand, Fenris, but he has the maps we need and I don’t know…I feel bad for him.”

“Promise me you won’t have sex with him out of sympathy,” Isabela said point blank. “That’s the worst kind. So many strings attached. Makes escaping a tangled mess.” She chuckled a bit at her own pun.

Your face reddened but you turned to your satirical sense of humor to cover it up. “Perhaps you should write a book about sex, Isabela. After all, who would know the subject matter better than you?”

Isabela grinned, hopping aboard the bandwagon. “I should! What a great idea, Hawke. You’re so full of it.” She rested her cheek against her fist, her face lit by a broad, impish smile.

Fenris scowled, disgruntled at seeing his warning taken with such frivolity. “Mages are not to be trifled with!” He smacked his cards down onto the table, scowling at the lot. “I fold. Good night.” He stood and left. You watched his back as he crossed the tavern to the door, and you were able to see the tension in his muscles clearly.

Isabela pouted her lips. “Spoil sport.” She reached over and peeked at his cards. Her eyes widened and then she laughed. “Why, Hawke…you’ve done me a service again!” She lifted the cards and showed them to you and Varric. Fenris had had a winning hand.

* * *


	4. I hunt for you with bloody feet across the hallowed ground.

You were surprised when you opened the door to see Anders standing on the other side. You started for a moment, and then quickly stepped aside and showed him in.

“I know it’s Lowtown, but isn’t it a risk to be walking around?” you asked immediately, your brow creased with worry.

Anders smiled ruefully. “Every breath is dangerous when you live my life.” He noticed your frown at the cryptic statement so he shook his head, willing away the melancholy. “I didn’t come here to be an emotional burden. I just want to—AAH!”

You burst into fits of laughter as Maric, your faithful Mabari, leapt onto Anders. He tackled the poor mage to the ground, his massive paws pinning him down by the shoulders. He barked a few times and then began to lick the man’s face, much to his chagrin. 

“Now that blasted dog is attacking guests! Bah!”

You ignored Gamlen as you moved forward, wrapping your arms around your dog’s thick neck and pulling him back. Anders stood, wiping his face off on his sleeves. He looked positively mortified. 

“I definitely can’t say I miss Fereldan’s absolute obsession with dogs.” His lips twitched into a fond smile.

“Sorry about him,” you apologized while smiling at a happily panting Maric. “He must be able to tell that you’re a fellow Fereldan.”

Anders smiled. “Technically I’m from the Anderfels.”

You patted Maric on the head and stood straight, brushing dog fur from your robes. “What is it you wanted to talk about?”

Anders’s demeanor took on some timidity as he began to wring his hands. “I just wanted to say again how grateful I am that you helped me find Karl,” he began.

You frowned mournfully. “I wish we could have saved him.” Each word stemmed straight from your heart.

“As do I,” Anders replied. “I also wanted to thank you for keeping such an open mind about…Justice. You’re the first person I’ve met that wouldn’t have run screaming when they heard.”

You smirked, placing a hand on your hip as you shifted your weight. “Who could run screaming from such a handsome mage?” Your words were teasing, but your flirt was still obvious. There was no doubt about it; you had a bit of a crush on the mage.

It was apparent in the tinge of pink that covered Anders’s cheeks that your flirtations had met with a shy soul. “Y-you’re too kind.”

“You know, the last thing we need is to be found with _two_ renegade mages under our roof. Just saying.” Gamlen was pretending to be talking to your mother, but being very obnoxious and loud so that you had no choice but to hear him.

You rolled your eyes and gave Anders an apologetic half smile. “Please excuse my uncle.”

Anders scrutinized the man for a moment before shaking his head. “I don’t see the family resemblance at all.” He smiled genuinely and then took his leave.

You watched him until he disappeared from sight, blending in with the Lowtown crowd. You hoped he made it back to his clinic without any incident.

\---

“Oh, you find all sorts of things to steal in a brothel,” Isabela said to Anders. 

The two of them, Fenris, and you had just passed the Blooming Rose on your way to Viscount’s Keep to speak with Aveline. You were only half listening to their conversation as you lead the way through the streets.

“You are obviously speaking from experience,” Anders replied wearily.

You could imagine the smirk Isabela must be wearing at the moment. “Once I found this interesting little…tool¸ I guess you could call it. It was worn like a belt with a _looong_ —”

“Isabela, I don’t think he needs to hear about that,” you said over your shoulder. You recalled the object clearly with some disgust.

“You don’t just find nasty things,” Isabela said as though defending her acts of thievery. “I’ve found some forgotten jewelry too. Some of it quite beautiful. I found a beautiful gold locket in the sheets once. It had sapphires embedded in the top in the shape of a phoenix.”

You stopped dead in your tracks and Fenris collided into you with a muffled grunt followed by a short, slightly annoyed utterance of “Hawke?”

You ignored him and turned to Isabela, whose brown eyes were round with curiosity.

“That locket, do you have it?” you asked. You tried to keep the desperation out of your voice. Your heart was beating so furiously you were sure that they must have been able to hear it.

“No,” Isabela replied slowly, still watching you with question in her eyes. “I meant to take it, but when I went to get it from the room someone else had already stolen it.”

You sighed, your shoulders dropping forward so far that it was almost as if you would fall to the ground.

“What’s wrong?” Anders asked. He stepped close to you and placed a hand on your shoulder. “Was that locket yours?”

“Yes…no,” you replied and shook your head. “In a way. Nothing, forget about it. We need to get to Aveline’s office before she leaves for the day.”

You quickly turned away from Anders and his hand slipped from your shoulder. Briefly Fenris’s eyes met yours and in that short amount of time he conveyed his concern. You ignored him and marched on, determined not to utter another word on the matter.

* * *


	5. Be careful of the curse that falls on young lovers.

You couldn’t say you were thrilled with Bartrand’s choice of a campsite, but then again, there weren’t very many five-star accommodations available in the Deep Roads. You were returning with Fenris and a few other hirelings after clearing out the darkspawn in the area when you were approached by the dwarf merchant.

“Bodahn, good to see you,” you smiled warmly at him. Your smile faltered when you noticed how worried he seemed. “Is something the matter?”

“I’m afraid so, messere. You see my boy, Sandal, has gone missing. I hope he didn’t wander too far or encounter any darkspawn.”

You’re eyes widened slightly. You liked Sandal, he was a nice boy and a very talented enchanter. “How long has he been gone?”

“Perhaps a few hours, at the most. He was hanging around the North exit tunnel.”

“I’ll go find Sandal,” you said. That was one decision you didn’t need to think about. “If anyone asks, let them know where I’ve gone and that I’ll be back soon.”

So, you possibly could have thought that through a little more. You realized this when it was too late to turn back. You had been walking for probably forty minutes with no sign of Sandal. You were starting to think that such a search was hopeless, but you didn’t want to give up. You sat on a felled column of stone for a short rest, and to decide what to do. 

Just as you were standing to begin walking again you heard your name echo through the tunnel. You turned toward the origin of the voice in time to see Anders turning the corner. He paused for a moment, and then walked up to you.

“Hawke! I’m glad I caught up with you.”

You raised your eyebrows, turning your body to face Anders. “Is something wrong?”

Brief bewilderment crossed his expression. “You worried all of us. Well, except for Bartrand. We didn’t know where you were. That was until I asked Bodahn, and he suddenly recalled that you had ventured into the Deep Roads to find his son, all alone!”

You flinched at his tone but knew that it was only because he had been worried. “I’m sorry, Anders. But now that you’re here, you should help me find Sandal.”

Anders sighed and rubbed his forehead, taking a moment to calm down. “All right.”

Even though it was nice to have company on this search, it didn’t change the fact that it seemed Sandal was long gone. The boy may have been an enchanting savant, but he had never struck you as very quick witted or adventuresome. 

You were on the verge of suggesting turning around when you caught sight of the blond dwarf prancing around a corner. You rapped on Anders’s shoulder to get his attention and pointed him out.

“Sandal!”

You both called after him as you took pursuit. You followed the boy through winding corridors, crumbling archways, and over the bodies of dwarves.

“Anders!” You turned to him, your eyes wide. You didn’t have to say it, he had sensed them already.

If there were bodies, then there were darkspawn; and Sandal was probably running straight into the horde.

* * *


	6. Screaming in the dark, I howl when we're apart.

Everything around you was on fire. The flames licked at the fleeing darkspawn’s legs, felling them so that they could be finished off by a blast of cold from Anders’s staff. The two of you had fallen into a rhythm that was allowing you to take down the darkspawn one by one, but you could feel your strength flagging and there just wasn’t a break in the horde.

“Pull back,” Anders called to you and began to back up. You followed his lead, shielding yourself behind a broken door just as he unleashed a hail of fire onto the darkspawn.

Despite the losses the horde took from the attack, they continued to converge on your position. You stood next to Anders, your staff held before you defensively.

“There’s too many! What do we do?” Your eyes darted around, making sure that no darkspawn could creep around and take you by surprise.

“I’m afraid we must retreat,” Anders said calmly. He looked over his shoulder, studying the area. “There!” He pointed out a door set in the side of the Deep Roads. Running over, you tried it and found it to be unlocked and in relatively good condition. The two of you hurried inside and pulled the door to.

Just as you had, an ogre appeared on the scene. He crashed forward, ramming his head into the wall. The ground shook and rock fell from the ceiling as you and Anders backed up further into the small alcove. It was nothing but a small room of carved out rock. Perhaps it had been in construction at the time the thaig was abandoned. 

The ogre charged again. You lost your footing on the quaking ground, but Anders caught you before you fell. He crouched in the back of the room, holding you protectively to shield you from the falling debris. You covered your ears and closed your eyes, waiting for the onslaught to be over.

Eventually, the ogre stopped charging the door. But by the time he gave up the wall had been reduced to nothing but tightly compacted rubble.

You were trapped.

* * *


	7. Until I wrap myself inside your arms I cannot rest.

“If I had to guess, perhaps an hour?”

You sighed, letting your head fall forward. It felt like much longer than an hour since you had been trapped inside this unfinished room. “There’s nothing we can do but wait.” Your hands were covered in dirt and little scratches from trying to pry the rock free, but Anders had stopped you, warning what a cave in may do to worsen your situation.

“Doesn’t Justice have some kind of almighty Fade power that could get us out of here?” you asked, half teasing and half serious. You wished that you hadn’t when you caught the look on Anders’s face before he turned away.

“No, I’m afraid not,” he replied dryly. 

You frowned. “I’m sorry, Anders. I didn’t mean…”

He shook his head to stop you from continuing, smiling ruefully in your direction. “It’s fine. I would hope that a spirit of the Fade could do a little more in this situation, too.”

After a few moments you couldn’t help but ask. The curiosity had been gnawing on the back of your mind since you had met the healer. “What is it like?”

Anders looked at you for a moment before turning to look up at the wall of rock before you. “It was strange at first, and still is really…but you get accustomed to it.” He rubbed his forehead. “It’s like having a very involved conscious.”

“What kind of things does Justice say to you?” you asked. You had heard descriptions of demon possessions before, but never of a spirit possessing a willing host. You knew that there must be important differences.

Anders smiled a bit, turning to look at you again. “Well, he does tell me that you are a distraction.”

You rested your hand against your palm, smirking at your fellow mage. “Oh, how so?”

Anders shifted nervously in his place on the ground next to you. “I never could have hoped to meet someone like you. A brave, beautiful woman who cares as much for the mages’ cause as I?” He shook his head as though trying to pull himself from a dream. “Justice does not agree, but I...”

You discreetly moved to sit closer to Anders until you could lean your shoulder against his. “But you…?” you prompted quietly. Your heart was beating rapidly, supplying blood to your cheeks that you desperately wished would go away.

Anders turned to face you and his breath hitched in his throat when he saw how close you had gotten. “Abigail…this…you shouldn’t have anything to do with me.” He turned his head away, but he didn’t move. “I’ll only break your heart.”

“You’ve said that before,” you whispered. Gently, you placed two fingers against his jaw and turned him to face you again. Your eyes met and held him there as you whispered, “But I’d rather take a chance than to never know what we could have.”

The little control Anders had snapped. His hands cupped your face as his lips crashed against yours, claiming them in a passionate embrace. You wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled yourself flush against him. Each moment that he continued to kiss you made your heart soar even higher.

When finally you broke away he was breathing heavily, his chest rising and falling against yours. You simply smiled at him, twirling a strand of his hair around your finger as you moved it out of his eyes. “Was that really so bad?” you whispered teasingly, a little smirk playing on your lips.

Anders smiled, pressing his forehead against yours and closing his eyes. For a long time the two of you sat like that, you in his lap with your arms secured around his neck, just enjoying each other’s presence.

But then you heard the commotion outside and you got to your feet, moving closer to the wall of rock so that you could try to hear what was going on. You were almost certain the darkspawn horde had returned until you heard, “Boom?”

“Sandal!” you exclaimed. “Sandal! Get the others!”

“He already has, Hawke,” Varric answered you. “You and Blondie step back. This is going to be quite the show.”

You pushed up against the wall and shielded your face. Anders stood in front of you, his back to the wall and wrapped his arms around you, ducking his head down against yours to protect the both of you from the debris. Within a few moments the wall of rock exploded and pieces rained down on you from above. When the dust cleared, you looked over Anders’s shoulder to see Fenris, Varric, Bodahn, Bartrand, and Sandal standing around discharged explosives.

“I see you weren’t bored, Kitten,” Varric teased when he saw you and Anders wrapped up together.

Bodahn immediately walked forward to take your hand, holding it tightly. “Thank you for finding my boy, messere! If ever I can repay you…”

“I think Sandal has already done enough,” Anders said, smiling at the dwarf merchant and his son. “He brought you to us.” He turned to smile knowingly at you and you blushed, a timid smile on your face. That wasn’t all Sandal had caused.

“Well, praise the ancestors!”

Everyone turned to see Bartrand standing on the rubble, his fists against his hips as he looked down into a tunnel that had been blocked for decades. He turned to regard everyone, a huge, greedy grin on his face. “That explosion opened up the path we needed.”

* * *


	8. I'm in the grip of a hurricane.

You picked up the hand written note from the small table in the hallway of the library. Yes, the library! You still couldn’t get over how magnificent this house was.

_I came in and watered your plants. – Merrill_

You smiled, setting the note back down. “That was sweet of her. I didn’t even know I had plants.”

“That would explain their need of watering.”

You turned sharply; your brand new, heeled leather boots from Orlais squeaking against the floor. You relaxed when you noticed Fenris leaning against the doorframe, watching you calmly.

“Have you ever heard of knocking?” you teased.

“I thought since you enter my house unannounced that I could return the favor.” He stepped out of the doorframe and walked over to stand in front of you.

You rolled your eyes, a tad bit of a smile still on your lips. “I could argue the nuance that that house isn’t even yours, but I’ll concede this one.” You laughed. “Is there anything you needed, Fenris?”

Fenris shifted his weight from one foot to the other like someone with anxiety would do, but his gaze didn’t break from yours or falter. “I have…something very unpopular to say.”

Your shoulders tensed as you went on the defensive. Suddenly it was hard to look him in the eye and you turned, walking absentmindedly up the library stairs. Fenris followed, but halted at the foot. “Unpopular?” Your voice came out more quietly than you expected.

Fenris sighed. He had never had trouble articulating his opinions before, but this was different. “I do not think you should see that mage.”

You turned to look at him slowly, your fingers ghosting across the banister. “You don’t think I should see Anders anymore,” you repeated as though to clarify, but you had heard and understood him just fine. You faced him completely and stood tall in your back. “If your argument is because he is a mage…well, you might want to look again.” You held your hands out in a gesture to yourself.

Fenris’s lips pursed together slightly, but he held his temper back. “I am well aware,” he replied dangerously low. “But he is a mage possessed.”

“By a benevolent spirit,” you corrected. The look in Fenris’s eyes said that he knew you didn’t believe that, and you were forced to look away from him. “He would never hurt me.”

“Intentionally, no.” Fenris stepped up onto the bottom stair, looking up at you. “Abigail, I ask you to listen to reason. As a mage yourself, you are at an even greater danger being around him.”

You felt the rage bubbling in your throat and you clenched your fists, trying to hold back. “I’m surprised you care so much.” But you didn’t think it was care for you. “Mages just don’t get a break in your book, do they?”

Fenris’s eyes widened in shock and then narrowed angrily. “I am giving this advice as a _friend_ , Hawke.” You took notice of the use of your family name again. “All mages are a danger to themselves as well as to others.”

“So we should be locked away from our family and friends, denied freedom?” You began to walk down the steps slowly, each step heavy and purposeful. “Perhaps the education in the Circle is good, but the mages here are barely allowed to _breathe_ without a Templar threatening to turn them tranquil.” You were on your soap box now and you weren’t going to get down until Fenris conceded defeat. “It is very like slavery, Fenris.” Your blazing eyes met his and you knew you were toeing the line. “Can you condemn another person to that kind of life?”

Fenris glared at you, clenching his fists. You weren’t afraid that he would try to hit you, but his anger was out of his control at this point. “You cannot compare slavery to the Circle. It is not the same.”

“But isn’t it?” you asked quietly. Your question drove right into his head and planted itself in the back of his mind to gnaw on him later, but for now he simply turned and marched from the house, ignoring your mother and Bodahn as they bid him farewell.

You stood on the stairs for a long time, glaring at the door and replaying the conversation in your head. You finally yelled in frustration. Looking around, you spotted the bottle of wine Fenris had sent to you when you bought the mansion. Snatching it up, you turned and tossed it into the fireplace. The fire exploded into a miniature mushroom cloud from the alcohol and you could feel the heat on your skin.

When you had calmed down enough, you pulled on a cloak and left.

\---

At first you had made your way toward Darktown to see Anders. Whenever you felt angry or upset your first thought was always of him and how you knew he could make you feel better, but this time you stopped yourself. The nature of why you were mad would only cause Anders to get up in arms over it too, and with Vengeance lurking in his mind that was dangerous. 

It hurt to admit that Fenris’s words were true, but you were going to take the chance. You felt that Anders was worth it, and the cause for the mages was definitely worth it.

You stopped along the way at the docks. For a long time you stood and looked out at the water, gently rolling under the light from the full moon. 

You weren’t sure when you had thrown yourself completely into freeing the mages. Of course, you had always been an advocate, but now you had a burning desire to see it happen. With the money from the Deep Roads expedition and the influence that endeavor had garnered you, you could really do something about it.

Smiling sadly, memories of Bethany bloomed in your mind. 

It had been hard growing up as an apostate, but having a sister to share the burden with had been a huge blessing. You missed her so much, and you wished she could see what you were doing for your family, what you would have done for her. Carver just didn’t seem to appreciate it, and he couldn’t completely understand the mage struggle, especially now that he was a Templar; you could only hope that he would be a fair and partial one.

You looked up at the moon. “I’ll do this for you, Bethany.” If you kept your sister and her sacrifice in your heart always, you knew you could not be corrupted on your journey.

You only wish you could say the same for Anders. 

With a heavy heart, but feeling stronger with purpose, you left the docks and made for the Hanged Man. It was time for a much-needed pint with Isabela and Varric.

* * *


	9. But you've got the love I need to see me through.

As you entered the Hanged Man, it suddenly occurred to you to worry that Fenris was there; but after a quick scoping out of the run-down tavern you couldn’t see hide or tail of the elf, so you settled in at a corner table. It wasn’t long before Isabela sauntered over to you, two pints in her hands.

“You look like you could use one of these,” she said as she took a seat next to you and slid the pint until it was under your nose.

One corner of your mouth turned up in a small smile. “Do I look that bad?”

Isabela shifted on her seat until she could comfortably cross one leg over the other’s knee. “Not bad, but stressed. What happened?” She lifted her pint to her lips, watching you over the rim.

“Fenris.” Your lips stretched into a thin, straight frown before you took a swig of your pint. The liquid burned on its way down and caused you to cough. Isabela patted you on the back until you had recovered yourself.

Sitting back in your chair, you wiped the tears from your eyes and took a deep breath. “I don’t understand why he hangs around if he’s so against mages.”

“If you could change people to think the exact same as you then all of this rotten politics would have ended a long time ago,” the pirate scoffed.

You stared at her silently, blanching. Isabela, the so-very-easy-and-swarthy-rogue, had just said something rather profound and you were in shock.

After a few rude moments, Isabela glared and cried, “You people really believe me to be a witless floozy!”

“No!” you interjected instantly. “We don’t think you’re a fool!”

Isabela regarded you guardedly for a few minutes, and then cracked a huge grin at you.

“Anyway,” she continued, remnants of the grin still tugging at her lips. “My theory is that Fenris stays because of _you_ , not your cause.”

The implications of what that meant struck you like a bolt of lightning. You stared down into your ale transfixed, as if realizing multiple instances of proof.

And then, like a clap of thunder, you were thinking about Anders. You thought of how much you had grown to love him. It was enough just to be with him in his clinic, and it was wonderful knowing he was there to watch out for you when you were running favors or other ventures. He was an embodiment of the passion you felt for the mages’s cause. He was such a strong presence that he was like a pillar of stone to lean against.

“…Abigail, are you all right?” Isabela had her boobs against the table, and her head turned over her pint to try to look at your face. She had known something was wrong.

You smiled weakly, but to the contrary you had a burst of renewed energy. “I’m sorry, I’m fine. Thank you for the pint.” The pint was also known as the ale with which you had barely sipped. You were in a hurry, so you chugged the pint, fought away a belch, and then raced from the tavern, calling back a good-bye on the move.

Isabela sat dumbfounded, a look of confusion on her face. Then it melted into a smirk of admiration.

\---

You fell into Anders’s arms with a relieved sigh. He caught you close against his chest and gazed with a mix of intrigue and happiness at seeing you. Red tinted cheeks and slightly glossy eyes, not to mention the cute little grin, told him that you must have tried to down a pint. Being such a slow drinker normally, this accelerated the intoxication process.

“Has Isabela struck again, my love?” he asked teasingly as he gently stroked your hair.

You reveled in his presence, his closeness. You didn’t want it to end. The idea of a relationship with Fenris was no longer probable.

The nagging feeling had been your fear. You feared Justice, and you feared Anders would continue to grow more radical.

“Promise me that no matter what, you’ll always stay with me,” you said quietly as you gazed into his eyes.

His expression softened, revealing empathy in the assurance you sought. “Of course, my love.” He wrapped his hand around one of your own. “I promise.” 

When he kissed you, the surroundings faded away. Returning to reality brought a bit of embarrassment at kissing so passionately in front of injured and sick poor people.

“You have no privacy,” you observed closely for the first time. “I will fix that.”

He began to ask you what you meant but was silenced by a quick peck on the lips. He caught your smirk as you left the clinic, holding your head a little higher.

\---

You approached your mother that night. “Mother, I’m going to ask Anders to move in here.” After a moment you added for emphasis, “With me.”

Mother Hawke regarded you for such a time that you thought she might scold your choice, but then her eyes widened and she said, “You should! I can’t imagine it’s very good or safe for him down there.” Then she smiled. She had seen the flicker of surprise on your face. “I didn’t object to two dwarf merchants in the den, and we have a Mabari lap-dog! I can handle another apostate, too.”

You grinned and hugged your mother, squeezing your arms around her shoulders.

“By the way, sweetheart,” she added as you parted. “You have a letter on the desk. It came just after you left earlier.”

When you opened the crude envelope, you weren’t expecting to see the words that would turn your life upside-down:

_If you are the one interested in the **locket** , pray. – FSP_

It was hard to casually fold the note and place it in your pocket. It was almost too much to try to nonchalantly say good night, but you made it to your room and closed the door. Your knees gave out and you collapsed to the floor. You were shaking with a crude mixture of fear and anger.

_FSP._

* * *


	10. That's why you sleep with one eye open.

FSP.

_Frey Sadakuno, Phoenix._

There was no doubt about it that he had sent the note. You didn’t sleep that night. Instead, you sat on your bed hugging one of your large satin pillows, the note sitting in front of you. You glared at it as though it were a snake about to strike.

What would happen next was inevitable. You would run into him, whether you tracked him down or he found you. Wouldn’t it be better to take the upper hand?

The problem was that you had no idea where he was. He could be anywhere in Kirkwall and the surrounding area. Also, if you started inquiring about him you may draw attention to yourself. He was sneaky and had eyes and ears everywhere.

When the morning came, you dressed as usual and headed downstairs. You declined breakfast and headed out into Hightown, making your way to the Keep. You were going to see Aveline.

She was used to you coming to her looking for information on certain thugs and other persons of interest, so she didn’t even bat an eye when you asked if she had heard anything on a Frey Sadakuno.

“No…I can’t say that I have, Hawke,” she replied with a frown.

You pursued your lips and thought. “What about ‘the Phoenix?’ He’s known by that name as well.”

Aveline thought for a minute, but you could already tell it wasn’t ringing any bells. “No, I’m sorry. I’ll keep my ears open for you.”

You smiled slightly. “Thanks, Aveline.”

You stood at the top of the stairs leading down from the Keep into the courtyard. You had no choice but to find Meeran, but he was another figure that had disappeared from the radar. There was no certainty that he was even still alive. It had been three years, and he was a mercenary, after all.

Deciding to write some letters to old contacts to attempt to trace the mercenary leader, you began your descent into the courtyard and began the short walk to your estate. You were pleasantly surprised to see Anders sitting on one of the benches in the foyer. Your smile slipped from your face when you noticed how he wrung his hands and looked here and there as if expecting a Templar to hop out of the potted plant yelling, “Argh! There be an apostate mage!” 

“Anders?” You stopped in front of him, your head tilted to the side and curiosity on your face.

His head snapped up to look at you and instantly a small smile tugged at his anxiously pressed lips. He stood, casting one quick glance around, and whispered to you, “I have something I need to tell you. It’s important.”

Your stomach turned over nervously, but you nodded and lead the way through the house. The normal pleasantries to your mother and the dwarves were brief and soon you stood in your room, Anders with his back to the door as if expecting trouble.

“What in Andraste’s name is wrong?” you asked. “I can promise a Templar isn’t about to pop out of my wardrobe.”

Anders let out a short laugh and stepped forward, standing next to you by the fire. “I know. I’m sorry. But you can never be too careful.”

You sat down on the edge of your bed and looked up at him, your eyes shining with the worry that was clenching your heart. “Please tell me what is bothering you, Anders.”

Anders didn’t sit next to you, but instead paced back and forth in front of the fire, wringing his hands again. His nerves were starting to really put you on edge. Finally he spoke, “I know you’re going to tell me I sound paranoid, but I’m not. There is a plan to make as many mages as possible Tranquil, whether they have offended or not.”

“But—”

Anders held up a hand to stay your protest and your mouth shut with an audible click of your teeth. “Wait. I don’t have proof, but I know it’s a Templar by the name of Ser Alrik.” 

You knew the name. Your brother had mentioned him in his letters to you, and even Carver was put off by the man’s zeal. That was a bad sign in and of itself. “My brother is not fond of him,” you supplied with a frown. “But would the knight-commander really allow something like this? It’s extreme.”

Anders shook his head. “Perhaps she doesn’t know, but at the rate she’s been going who can say?” The level of excitement in his voice was growing.

“Wait,” you said to slow him down. You knew what happened when he got too worked up over the mages’ cause. “We don’t know that she is involved. Alrik, if it’s true, could be working alone.”

“I plan to find out,” Anders said. He stopped pacing and moved to stand in front of you. “Will you help me?” It was a quiet question.

There was nothing you could say but to agree. Despite the worry you felt in your heart for Anders, you were determined to do everything within your power to help the mages in your lifetime.

Even if you died trying.

* * *


	11. I swallow the sound, and it swallows me whole.

You danced through the chaos of battle, spinning your staff like a baton to knock back the Templars that converged on you. Ice tore across the ground, bidden seemingly by your fingertips, and through the men’s armor, impaling them or shoving them roughly to the ground. In the slight reprieve you had while the Templars recovered, you quickly looked over at Anders. His glowing blue eyes and the shining cracks over his skin made your blood run cold.

The remaining Templars stood together, preparing to charge the party. You lifted your staff into the air and leaned your head back, closing your eyes and concentrating. Within moments a fire storm began in the cave and rained down on the group of men.

When the flames and screams had subsided, all that was left was your party and the mage girl cowering against the wall. Anders moved on her immediately, Justice still in control.

“Anders, no!” you cried, realizing his intent. You dropped your staff as you leapt forward, grabbing onto his arm.

Anders twisted away from you, turning to look down at your slight frame with a glare. Justice’s intent eyes caused your stomach to clench with fear, but you fought against it. “If you kill her, you’re no better than them.” You indicated the bodies of the Templars with a sweep of your arm. “Don’t do this. She’s who you want to _protect_.”

“She is theirs,” he replied. His voice was overlaid—controlled—by the deep tones of the spirit. You had to appeal to Justice, not to Anders himself.

“If you kill her then you’re no better than they are.” Your words were harsh, but you feared that no other tone would be able to get it across. In a low voice, heavy with intent, you said, “If you kill her, then we might as well have let her become tranquil.”

Anders pulled his arm back to attack, the young mage girl screamed, and you prepared to intervene. Just as he began to bring his arm down, Justice’s power broke and disappeared like a candle flame being snuffed out. Anders stumbled back, placing his hands over his face.

You stepped forward and placed your hand on his shoulder. He flinched.

“Maker, I almost…” He swallowed hard; his throat was dry and sticky. “If you hadn’t been here I would have…” Each time his breath hitched, unable to speak the truth. He tried to look at you, but couldn’t meet your eyes. He looked at the mage girl, still cowering against the stone. “I have to go,” he said quietly and ran from the cave.

You watched him go, your brow knit with concern. You longed to run after him, to comfort him, but you couldn’t tell him it was okay. What had happened was definitely not okay. Unable to reconcile yourself, you focused on helping the terrified girl.

\---

Once you had sent the mage girl on her way to see her parents, you entered Anders’s clinic to find him tossing papers and books into a barrel full of trash.

“What are you doing?” you asked. He whipped around in surprise, and then visibly relaxed when he saw that it was you.

“Just cleaning out my things,” he muttered and began to toss papers again. 

You stood behind him silently, unsure of what to say. He quickly lost steam on his task and his shoulders slumped forward. He turned to face you, but his eyes were downcast to the floor.

“I can’t believe what I almost did,” he whispered.

Your heart hurt seeing him so forlorn. You couldn’t say that it was okay, but you didn’t need to say anything at all. Without a word, you stepped forward and wrapped your arms around him. His arms slowly encircled your waist and pulled you close as he buried his face against the crook of your neck. You tangled your fingers in his hair and hummed to yourself, hoping the tune Bethany used to sing for you would have the same calming effect on your love.

* * *


	12. If you could only see the beast you've made of me.

The paper was burning a hole in your pocket, like an ember that could catch the fabric on fire at any moment. It was hard to walk with Anders, Fenris and Isabela with such a secret nestled so close. You tried to act normal, but the more the words replayed in your mind the more tense you became until you were sure they must notice.

But if they did, they remained silent about it.

“The city is abnormally quiet,” observed Fenris. You and the party stopped in the square in front of the Chantry and looked around, but not a single other soul was in sight.

“Perhaps to shelter from the storms?” Isabela mused, her tone bored. “I saw the dark clouds on the sea’s horizons this morning. Oncoming storms can make some folks act…different.”

Her eyes flickered away, but not before you realized they’d been on you. In fact, Fenris and Anders were staring as well.

“What?” you blurted out. Immediately your cheeks began to burn. “Have I something on my face?” It was a weak feint, but with Isabela’s next words you hoped it had worked—

“If there’s nothing for us to get into, then I have places to be,” she said with a smirk. “Find me at the Hanged Man later, Hawke.”

“I as well have errands to attend,” concurred Fenris, and the two broke off from your group. You hailed your farewells and turned to smile at Anders, but you did not receive a smile in return.

“What’s wrong, Anders?”

“What are you hiding?” he asked sternly.

You were taken aback. The look in his eyes was so fierce, so ready to question the trust you had built. “W-what?”

His eyes narrowed. Had he ever looked at you so coldly? “What are you hiding, Abigail?”

“Anders, why are you acting so cold?”

“Because you are keeping something from me, I know it.”

You weren’t sure where it came from, but anger bubbled up from the depths of your gut like magma through a volcano. “Oh, _you know it_ , do you? Just _what_ do you know?”

Now it was Anders who was taken aback, and for a moment you thought your sudden outburst had broken through his barrier of ice, but then his eyes flashed blue and it returned with harshness. “I am only concerned about you, _Hawke_.”

“You got a funny way of showing it!” you snapped and turned away. He called after you as you left the courtyard, the clicking of your boots against the flagstones echoing about the empty street. But he didn’t follow you, and when you had reached the stairwell into Lowtown you stopped. With a sigh, your anger dissipated into guilt.

“I’m sorry, Anders,” you whispered to the wind. Reaching into your pocket, you withdrew the new note signed by the Phoenix and clutched it in your fist. “But I can’t get you involved in this.”

* * *


	13. This is as good a place to fall as any.

You were sitting with crossed legs in front of your bedroom fire, poring over the note from FSP, when your mother knocked on the door. With a jerk, your back straightened and you shoved the note between your tunic and left breast to hide it. You had to fight to keep your voice steady as you called, “Yes?”

Your mother poked her head around the door and said casually, “Dear, Fenris is in the foyer.”

Were you just being paranoid or did she sound too laid back?

“Oh.” You had to clear your throat. “I’ll be down in a moment.”

She nodded and closed the door. Heart already racing, your mind began to work double time as well. It was quite late to be calling, had something happened?

Fenris was sitting on the stone bench against the wall. He was hunched over, elbows on knees, but when you approached he stood and you could see his eyes.

They were blazing.

“What are you hiding that even the _mage warden_ doesn’t know?” he snapped. 

Anger bubbled within and you could feel your face redden. “You were eavesdropping?”

“You were yelling.”

“It’s none of your business.”

You were startled when he suddenly stepped forward to stand over you, forcing you back against the wall. When at first the folded parchment slipped from your cleavage to flutter to the tile you thought nothing of it—and then all at once you were acutely aware of the note and its contents. However your brain was too slow telling your body to grab for it, so as your hand twitched Fenris already held the note.

Your heart was pounding against your chest and in your head, the back of your neck was on fire, your stomach clenched painfully. It only took a few moments for Fenris to unfold the paper and read it. His eyes darkened and you were forced to face your first real inkling of fear of Fenris.

“Hawke, I demand to know what is going on.”

You pressed your lips tightly together, your eyes boring into his. You felt vulnerable under that gaze, and you wished you didn’t.

“ _Abigail._ ”

You let out a deep sigh. “The locket belonged to my father.” You inhaled deeply. “Frey Sadakuno, a templar known as Phoenix, is the one who hunted and killed him.”

Fenris was obviously taken aback. His fierce gaze faltered, and he looked down into your eyes with surprise. After a moment he struggled with words, opening his mouth to speak only to close it again.

After a few moments of tense silence, you spoke again, “I’ve been looking for the locket since he died. Sadakuno has been looking for Bethany and I since then too.”

“This note does not name you specifically, he may not know it’s you,” reasoned Fenris. There was a hint of desperation in his tone.

You shook your head, smiling ruefully. “That’s possible, but highly unlikely.”

“You’re not going after him alone,” Fenris commanded. His voice was a low growl, his eyes so intense they seemed to bore through you like fire. “I am not leaving your side.”

Your heart began to speed again, and you willed it to slow down—you willed it to remember Anders. “No.”

“I am not giving you a choice in this,” Fenris warned. His vicious tone would have frightened you but it was clear it was not directed at you any longer. His target had shifted drastically in the last couple of minutes.

You chewed on the corner of your lip for a minute, thinking quickly. You could not allow Fenris to follow you, and if you carried out what you were currently thinking you would have to leave now, before you were really ready.

There was no helping it.

“I’m not giving you a choice either.” Your voice was quiet, almost a whisper, and you tipped up your chin. Fenris’s lips met yours. They were tense with shock, but warm and lightly rough and soft at the same time. 

He was surprised, and you took advantage of his vulnerability. With a quick crack, your fist collided with his jaw, knocking the stunned elf onto his side. 

You didn’t linger. Within the next moment your front door hung open, and you were gone.

Fenris was left with a bruising cheek, the indent of two knuckles forming a blue and purple SWAK against his jaw.

* * *


	14. And I’ve been a fool and I’ve been blind.

You were lucky in two things: It was already dark and your staff had been leaning against the wall next to the front door.

You were unlucky in multiple things: It seemed every street you turned down had templars. The city became a dangerous labyrinth. You abandoned any street upon seeing a templar, but finding an empty alley became increasingly difficult. Seemingly led by an unknown force, you made your way out of Kirkwall and into the surrounding mountains.

After thirty minutes of changing paths and ducking behind rocks, you finally slowed to a stop in a stone alcove, hidden from the path by boulders and trees. There was a log laying across the ground near the rock wall, like a makeshift bench. You sat, and buried your face in your hands. Slowly, your heart stopped racing but your stomach remained wound into a knot.

For a minute you listened to the cicadas sing and the waves crashing against distant rocks. You could smell wet earth and sweet flowers. If only you could be as carefree as the white moths swarming a tuft of blue flowers.

Then you began the futile process of trying to convince yourself that the only reason you had kissed Fenris was to distract him. And there was the matter of the unusual number of templars prowling the streets, even for Kirkwall. A small voice told you it was important, but you couldn’t immediately figure out why, so thoughts of Fenris won out.

How could you be the type of woman to have feelings for two men? Especially when one of them hated mages? Anders and Fenris were as different as day and night, but you suspected that’s part of what attracted you to them.

Suddenly you noticed that the cicadas were quiet, replaced by a muffled sound you couldn’t recognize. Very carefully and quietly, you emerged from your roadside hideaway just enough to be able to look up and down the path. The road was clear, but the sound seemed to be coming from the other side of the squat mountain. Tucking your staff into your belt against your back, you began to climb up the rock wall to peer over the peak. What you saw froze your blood in your veins.

Templars. Templars marching through the mountain. You had been able to hear their heavy steps over earth, rock and pebbles. Most of them carried their helms and talked animatedly amongst one another. Their laughter and speech was so loud you could just make out what they said.

“You believe we’re going to meet the Phoenix?”

“I met him once in Amaranthine, before it burned…”

“The Phoenix wants to meet in the mountains? Without Meredith?”

You heard rocks shift behind you but before you could react a hand wrapped around your nose and mouth and yanked you backward. You were too startled to scream, and you threw out your fist only to have your wrist caught.

“ _Stop struggling,_ ” growled Fenris.

* * *


	15. Now there's no holding back, I'm making to attack.

If you hadn't recognized his voice you would have struggled, but instead you relaxed and he removed his hands from around your jaw. When you turned to face him it was with confusion and consternation. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"I told you I wasn't letting you go after that templar alone," he said angrily. His jaw was swollen and discolored from your fist, and seeing it made you feel guilty. You couldn't let him come with you and risk getting caught, however.

"No," you said firmly, matching the intensity in your face to his. "I won't let you."

"Are you going to hit me again?" His tone was mocking and you felt as if you'd been slapped. "You can't stop me from following you, Hawke. It would be more beneficial to you to accept the help."

You clenched your fists, frustrated with his logic and determination. It was quite obvious your protests weren't going to work, but you were desperate to keep trying. Unfortunately the tactics that had worked on Anders were useless against Fenris. "I will not risk you getting caught. Sadakuno is powerful and ruthless, and he would just kill you on the spot."

"You are not risking me, I am risking myself so I do not lose you."

Your heart fluttered and your stomach did a somersault. You bit your lip, unsure what to do. It didn't take long to accept that this argument was lost, and his added power would be useful against the gathered templars.

"Fine," you growled through your teeth and pushed past him to return to the path. "The templars are gathering to meet Sadakuno now."

\---

Again you found a high vantage point to spy on the templars and from there you and Fenris watched the large group of soldiers standing around, talking and waiting.

"He isn't here yet," you whispered and then added, "yet."

"We are going to have to fight those templars," spoke Fenris. "It will cause an upheaval in Kirkwall."

You frowned; that hadn't occured to you before, but you thought it couldn't be helped. To have a templar like Sadakuno loose in Kirkwall would cause an even larger upheaval, and in favor of the Chantry no less. Realizing that steeled your resolve: You would do this for the mages's cause, for Anders.

"So be it," you responded quietly, resolutely. Fenris did not speak.

The two of you waited for about twenty minutes before Sadakuno showed himself. He emerged from a cave, a magnificent figure in sparkling platinum armor. His long blond hair was braided, a long rope down his back. Black eyes glared from a strict face, his entire demeanor one of the highest in pride and a sense of justice, the Chantry's justice.

"Brothers!" he bellowed, his voice easily carrying to those in the very back and up the stout mountainside to you and Fenris. "Thank you for answering my call! For too long apostates have hidden in these mountains, escaped from Kirkwall's Circle. It is our duty to cleanse this wilderness. We will stomp magic back into its place!"

A roar rose from the crowd, cheers and whoops, shouts of affirmation, and bloodlust. Fists pumped the air, gauntlets drummed breastplates.

As they celebrated, you were gritting your teeth and beginning to grip the rocks tighter and tighter, your anger rising like magma ready to burst forth from a volcano. Fenris noticed and reached to grab your hand, but you had already launched yourself down the sloping mountainside. Power shimmered like heat in the air surrounding you as you charged at Sadakuno. Templars stumbled over themselves to move out of the way, startled by the sudden attack. As you reached Sadakuno and your staff collided with his sword with a crackle of electricity, the templars rebounded and surged forward, a battle cry going up.

By this time Fenris was able to enter the battle. He took out several of the rear templars before the rest realized that there was a second ambusher. Again it did not take the trained soldiers long to adjust.

Magic rained down from the sky and shot through the battle like cannons. Fenris dispatched his opponents easily with his sword, but also by channeling the lyrium in his veins. The onslaught felt neverending, however, and he was in danger of depleting his stamina. He could not see you, either, and that sharp panic gave him a burst of adrenaline to push through.

More templars laid on the ground than were still fighting by the time he could finally see you.

* * *


	16. And it's hard to dance with a devil on your back.

You had been too focused on Sadakuno to even realize there was more fighting going on around you, and that Fenris was fiercely outnumbered. Your battle with Sadakuno was fast-paced, segmented by periods that felt like time had frozen, where you and the templar faced off, years of words instantly translated into a look, a glare, an intensity you felt deep in your being. This was a confrontation you had imagined many times and in a number of ways, now that it had come you didn't know what to expect, nor did you care about consequences. The only thought in your mind was how to kill Frey Sadakuno.

Memories fueled your rage. Crystal clear images of your father, lying in a pool of his own blood with Sadakuno standing over him, his blade slick and red. You remembered hiding from him with Bethany, trying to quiet sobs so you didn't fall to the same fate. The fear, the sorrow, the wrongful shame all kindled a desire for revenge that burned brighter than the flames you conjured now.

Five twisters constructed of rock, dirt and flame touched down around Sadakuno, converging on him at an unearlthy speed. Using the templar's ability to nullify magic, he began to stop the tornadoes in their path, but he was only able to take them out one at a time. Before he could get to them, two merged on him. He grit his teeth but was unable to stop a pained roar. He swung his broadsword around in a circle and cut through the remaining twisters. They dissipated quickly and he was left heaving, his armor steaming and his long braid singed to the scalp. With a battle cry he raised his sword over his shoulder and charged.

Fenris watched your confrontation from amidst a litter of bodies, his brow furrowed and his grip on his sword tight with tension, but he did not intervene. Even though his mind and body screamed to leap into the fray at your side, he knew that this was not his fight.

He would not hesitate to join if things turned dire, however.

The ground beneath your feet was charred and scuffed, crunching under boot like thousands of eggshells. The wind whistled past your ears, and when you weren't moving the silence was defeaning. The sun was rising higher into the sky and the growing heat pounded down. Sweat dripped into your eyes, the salty drops burning, but you blinked it quickly away. Your focus must never waver from Sadakuno. 

As his rage increased and his stamina waned, you found it harder to keep distance between you and him to cast spells. You blocked a downward strike with your staff, listening to the loud crack as the successive attacks took their toll. His templar sword nullified the magic that amde the wood of your staff like steel.

Sadakuno pressed down on his blade, forcing you to your knees and disabling you from rolling away, lest risk both staff and arm. He leaned forward, his sweaty face pinched with righteous anger and smugness.

"All you mages are the same," he spat but you did not tempt turning your face away. "And you deserve to end up _like your father_!" He pulled his sword back and prepared an execution strike.

"YOU ARE WRONG!" The cry ripped from your throat like a roar. In quick, fluid movements you rolled your shoulders back and lifted your staff to the sky. You channeled all the mana you could gather and with a bestial cry, released it. A massive lightning storm filled the area, the frequency of the strikes so high it resulted in a blast of rock and fire.

Fenris backed away from the storm, but was knocked over by the explosion. He protected his face with his arm guard, and impatiently waited for it to subside. When all that was left was a cloud of brown dust, Fenrus called out, "ABIGAIL!" He knew it was folly to run into a dust cloud, but each second he waited ripped at his heart.

The dust began to dissipate, just enough to see. First he saw you, collapsed on the ground and unconscious, and then he saw Sadakuno, badly injured and lifting his sword to strike a final blow.

"NO!" Fenris bellowed as he thrust his fist toward the templar, a blast of pure energy rushing forth to collide and throw him to the ground with a guttural scream. 

Fenris was right behind the blast with his sword. As he stopped before him, Sadakuno began to yell, "MAGES WILL BURN!" but Fenris brought his blade down on his neck, severing his head. The elf wasted no time on the dead templar, tossing his blade down to kneel beside you.

"Abigail," he said urgently, lifting you into his arms and onto his lap. "Abigail," he said more softly, looking worriedly down at you where you rested against his chest, out cold.

* * *


	17. It seems a heavy choice to make.

You woke with a jolt that threw you into a sitting position. Heart racing, adrenaline pumping, you scanned your surroundings with wide eyes. Steadily you calmed as you recognized your room, but nearly leapt from your skin when a soft utterance of your name came from the fireplace. He was silhouetted by the fire, but you knew immediately who it was.

"Fenris."

He came into the light, his expression one you had never seen in such sincerity from him: Relief.

"Abigail, you're all right," he said as he sat on the side of the bed. You were very aware of his closeness.

"Sadakuno is dead. Some of the templares escaped and the bells have already been ringing, but they have lost grave numbers."

You didn't hear much past "Sadakuno is dead." You sat in stunned silence, trying to let the information sink in.

"Abigail."

Your lips quirked slightly, briefly. "No more 'Hawke?'" you whispered.

Fenris gently pressed a hand to your cheek. His eyes watched yours for any indication that he should stop, but something must have told him what he needed to know, because before you could fully process anything that was happening he was kissing you.

And then you were kissing him back.

The rush of the moment was like heat that you felt everywhere. Your fingers found their way into the silky strands of his hair, and his chest pressed against yours. You could feel the frantic pace of your hearts. Slowly, you lowered onto the bed, Fenris stretched out over you. Every touch felt like fireworks against your skin.

Then your door slammed open and the two of you jumped apart like your polarizations had suddenly changed. You grabbed for your sheet even though you weren't nude, you wore the linen from under your armor. In the doorway stood a rigid and angry Anders.

The silence was heavy and absolute, and finally broken by him. "I heard the bells and came to be sure you were okay. It appears I had no need." He then turned on his heel and was gone.

"Anders, wait!" you cried and made to get up, but you simply stood in front of the fireplace and stared after him. What could you possibly say? he would be too angry to listen anyway. A fear of Justice pinged somewhere at the back of your mind.

"Hawke."

The return to formality struck you cold, and you turned stiffly to face Fenris, who had moved to stand behind you. For a long minute you stared into each other's eyes, yours wide and lost, his freezing over.

When he spoke it was low, and what he said replayed in your head millions of times after he had left.

"It seems you have a choice to make."

* * *


	18. But it’s always darkest before the dawn. (Fenris)

You stood outside Fenris’s home for a long time, trying to drum up the courage to knock on the door. Normally you would just walk right in, but now that felt too presumptuous. Your heartbeats pounded like a fist in your chest, and you tried to focus on its steady beat as you raised your fist to the door.

It opened before your knuckles made contact and Fenris stood there, looking sardonically amused. “I wondered if you were just going to stand out there all night.” His words were playful, but his tone was flat.

“Can I come in?” Your heart was beating in your ears.

He stepped back, clearing the way. The two of you sat in the two high-backed chairs in front of the fire. Even though you had been rehearsing what to say the entire walk there, now you found yourself at a loss for words. Fenris was not willing to offer any, he simply sat back and waited for you to start speaking. You couldn’t read anything off him, he was stoic and guarded.

Finally, you spoke, “You told me I had a choice to make,” you said slowly, clasping your hands together in front of you. He waited for you to continue. “I’ve made one.”

You looked up at him. Nothing had changed in his demeanor, except his eyes. You could see a struggle in them, a tug of war between the coldness and hope. But still, he didn’t speak.

“Fenris, if you will have me…” you began.

Your next words were halted and forgotten in the next moment. Fenris had raised and crossed to you, pulling you up into his arms within a moment. You own arms encircled his shoulders tightly and you buried your face against his neck. Your senses were overwhelmed by his touch, drowned in his scent: An exotic musk and the faint scent of fire.

“I will have you, Abigail.” Fenris’s voice was low and rough, a growl against your ear. “To have you is my greatest desire.” 

You leaned back, but didn’t disentangle from his arms. You cupped his face with both hands and gazed into his face, taking in everything: His slightly mussed white hair, the strong lines of his face, the love burning in those velvet green eyes. With your thumb you gently traced one of the lyrium veins on his chin, starting on his bottom lip. You continued to the veins on his neck, and then your other hand joined as you ran them, palms flat, down his chest.

Fenris gripped your shoulders and pulled you to him, his lips crashing down against yours. Passion ripped through both of you, warming you from the inside out and all over.

He lifted you, never breaking the kiss. You wrapped your arms around his neck, burying your fingers in his hair and tugging gently. Carefully he placed you on the bed and straddled your hips.

From that point on the heat of lust and pleasure blurred the lines of reality, memories becoming a single entity bursting with sensation. Clothes were discarded, lips roamed over every inch of skin. You pinned him to the mattress and nearly brought him over the edge. Driven by desire he dominated you again.

Light burst behind your eyes when he entered you, moans torn from two throats. He held you, he kissed you…

He loved you.

  
_And I’ve been taking chances  
I’ve been setting myself up for the fall  
I’ve been keeping secrets  
From my heart and from my soul_

**THE END**   



	19. No light, no light in your bright blue eyes. (Anders)

Darktown was deserted when you arrived, everyone having scurried into hiding when the bells started ringing. The doors to Anders’s clinic stood open, and inside he paced furiously back and forth. It wasn’t until you had passed the threshold that you could see his eyes, blue and glowing fiercely.

Justice.

Actually, now it was Vengeance. How easily he was corrupted, how perfect a vessel Anders was. The mage cause was the perfect fueling force. You faltered. What could you do or say now? Anders, the mage you loved, was not currently in control. 

Before you could settle on what to do he turned and stopped, staring at you. The gaze was intense, and you felt fear.

“You!” roared the dual-tone voice of Vengeance and Anders. He charged toward you and you tried to dodge to the side, but he caught you around the throat and forced you against the wall. “ _You_ are the reason this mage is tempted to stray from his path!”

You gagged, your hands gripping his wrist, fingers clawing at fingers. You kicked out at him and tried to trip him, but he pressed himself against you, flattening you against the wall. Your breath came in thin gasps but soon he released you to grab your wrists and pin them on either side of your head. You struggled, but it was useless.

“The mage pines for you,” Vengeance told you with disgust. “He desires you so strongly…” His voice trailed away, something in his eyes changed.

A different kind of fear settled in your stomach.

He pressed his lips to your throat, biting roughly. You yelped and turned away, but his grip just tightened as he tongued the length of your neck.

Then one hand had abandoned your wrist and ripped the front of your robes and undershirt. It hung about your torso like a tattered vest, your breasts bare to his eyes.

You slapped him with your freed hand, angry tears forming in your eyes. While he was distracted you shoved him hard, releasing his grip for good and sprinting across the room away from him. You clutched your torn robes over your chest, attempting in vain to cover yourself. 

When he turned to look at you it was slowly, and with brown eyes.

“A-Abigail…?” he questioned, obviously not wanting to believe what had just transpired and how you looked before him now, scared and half-nude.

You didn’t answer, you just continued to stare at him. How easily could Vengeance reclaim control?

“Abigail, that wasn’t me, I would never…” Anders implored, slowly approaching you with his hands splayed before him helplessly. He looked like a kicked puppy, his eyes filled to the brim with remorse. He walked toward you like you were a frightened kitten in the dark.

You fought the urge to back away and allowed him to embrace you. He held you tightly, his face buried in your hair. He shook, and you felt your guard begin to dissipate into pity. This felt like the Anders you knew, this felt safe. You relaxed into his arms, your tension melting away.

“Something needs to be done about Vengeance,” you said quietly.

“Something will,” Anders said. He released you, bringing his hands to gently grip your arms. “Please forgive me.”

You swallowed, looking up into his pleasing eyes. Your heart surged with the desire to forgive him and overlook Vengeance – for now – and it overtook your reason.

“I will forgive you,” you said, placing a hand against his cheek, “if you will forgive me for what happened with Fenris.”

Hurt flared in his eyes and you felt guilty when he spoke, “If you tell me who you really love.”

Your hand joined the other holding his face, your gaze locked intently with his, “I am in love with Anders.”

He stared at you for a long time and then leaned forward, pressing his lips softly against yours. The kiss was passionate and loving, and he pulled you into his warm embrace once again. With a wave of your hand the doors to the clinic closed and locked, and then you pushed him back onto one of the cots.

You made love for the first time, the sensation more wonderful than any magic. The world was made of only you and Anders, there was no past or future, only the blissful present. In that, you felt that as long as you were together you could face anything.

  
_I took the stars from my eyes, and then I made a map  
And knew that somehow I could find my way back  
Then I heard your heart beating, you were in the darkness too  
So I stayed in the darkness with you_

**THE END**   



	20. Lyrics Index

Since I used so many lyrics for the titles of the chapters, I decided to add an index to list the titles so it’s easier for you to find the song!

The title, of course, is “Kiss With a Fist.”

1\. “A fist is better than none.” - “Kiss With a Fist”  
2\. “Sweeter than Heaven, and Hotter than Hell.” - “Drumming”  
3\. “In the shadow of your heart.” - “Cosmic Love”  
4\. “I hunt for you with bloody feet across the hallowed ground.” - “Howl”  
5\. “Be careful of the curse that falls on young lovers.” - “Howl”  
6\. “Screaming in the dark, I howl when we’re apart.” - “Howl”  
7\. “Until I wrap myself inside your arms I cannot rest.” - “Howl”  
8\. “I’m in the grip of a hurricane.” - “Hurricane Drunk”  
9\. “But you’ve got the love I need to see me through.” - “You’ve Got the Love”  
10\. “That’s why you sleep with one eye open.” - “Girl With One Eye”  
11\. “I swallow the sound, and it swallows me whole.” - “Drumming”  
12\. “If you could only see the beast you’ve made of me.” - “Howl”  
13\. “This as good a place to fall as any.” - “Bedroom Hymns”  
14\. “And I’ve been a fool and I’ve been blind.” - “Shake It Out”  
15\. “Now there’s no holding back, I’m making to attack.” - “Howl”  
16\. “And it’s hard to dance with a devil on your back.” - “Shake It Out”  
17\. “It seems a heavy choice to make.” - “Never Let Me Go”  
18\. “But it’s always darkest before the dawn.” - “Shake It Out”  
19\. “No light, no light in your bright blue eyes.” - “No Light, No Light”

The lyrics at the end of chapter 18 are from “Lover to Lover.”  
The lyrics at the end of chapter 19 are from “Cosmic Love.”


End file.
